The Monsters Within
by pookiedoots
Summary: "I think I'm growing cold and heartless. Maybe this is just my conscience convincing me that that is how I'm supposed to be to be strong enough to sustain any kind of sanity lately." ***DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING RELATED TO THE WALKING DEAD. THIS STORY CONTAINS MILD ADULT LANGUAGE AND VIOLENT THEMES.***
1. Chapter 1

THE MONSTERS WITHIN

I twisted the key in the lock frantically, my fingers constantly slipping off of the ribbed metal. Muttering expletives, tears begin to sting my eyes and cloud my vision. The noises and movement around me soon became one big blur of chaos. I desperately put all my might into this and I finally swung the door open of the old, rusty pickup and flung my bag onto the passenger seat as I hopped in after it. I slammed the door shut, crying hard now. The dawn light progressively faded away from inside the car as more and more bodies closed in and covered the glass around me. I blinked the tears away, watching the swarming commotion. I was frozen with fear and exhaustion. Dozens of gruesome faces peered into the windows, their teeth gnawing grossly and their hands pounding at the frame of my truck. I finally shook myself out of it and slipped my key into the ignition. To add to my frustration, the damn thing wouldn't start. I was full on sobbing now as I tried and tried again. This must be it then. What else is there for me to do? Ever since this whole thing started, my hope has been slipping away from me at a rapid rate. I had to be determined. I had to be determined for those who can't anymore. With a little bit of faith and a couple dozen tries, over and over again, the engine finally began to roar. I cried happy tears for a moment, breathlessly sighing. I reached a hand up and wiped the sweat away from above my brows. "Brilliant," I whispered to myself, not really sure of what I was feeling.

I floored it. Over mounds of the undead dead, I progressively made my way, crushing bodies one after another. One of the most terrible sounds swam through the area of my car, sending shivers up my spine. After several moments of giving every ounce of strength I could muster, I finally cut through the crowd of vile looking bodies. I don't know where I was going but I had to get out of there and I had to get out of there fast. Maybe I'll find somewhere safe to stay the night. That's a joke actually, because nowhere could be considered that anymore. I drove for what seemed like hours until finding my gas meter just barely skirting 'empty.' I made my way to what looked like a heavy traffic blockage, or what would have been. I swerved through sets of cars and stopped. I looked around out my windows, and seeing most of the coast clear, I stopped my truck and hopped out. I grabbed the empty gas tank and tube out of the back and began siphoning gas from the nearby cars to my own. I heard distant shouts and began to get nervous. I picked up the pace and finally had enough gas to get going again.

I drove into a nearby neighborhood that evening. The area looked mostly deserted with the occasional straggling zombie. I found a small house and parked outside. I concealed most of my items inside a compartment within my truck and hopped out. Bearing my knife, I walked up to the door and wiggled the handle. It was open, thank God. I crept slowly and cautiously down the halls and into each of the rooms. I saw nothing, leading me to believe faith was on my side that evening. I locked myself up in what looked like a guest bedroom. It looked almost untouched, however, I found myself checking around multiple times constantly. I slept uneasy that night, awoken too many times by my unsettled conscience. Well, at least I had got a good two or three hours in, I was grateful for whatever I could get these days.

The morning light danced through the curtain-less window across the room. I turned over and grunted, my muscles sore from the feats of yesterday. I kept my eyes shut for many moments, just resting. Another day. I have lived to greet another day. I couldn't differentiate if that was a good or bad thing anymore. This is reality however, those who want to survive must adapt. I just have nothing to survive for. As I thought harder, memories that have carved themselves into my brain had started to flood throughout my mind again.

"_This is so scary," my mom's nervous voice crept into the living room behind me. "It seems to have begun early within the last week...," the newscaster spoke, "we don't know exactly what is going on, but what we do know is that it is spreading like wildfire…" My stomach flipped every time the young brunette-haired man spoke on the flashing screen. I fiddled with the hem on my shirt nervously, picking at the seam. "Scientists are scrambling for a cure, but have not obtained any type of lead just yet. As terrifying as this is, we request that everyone must stay away from the sick and infected-," and with that the T.V. clicked off. "Atticus!" my mother scolded at my older brother sitting on the recliner near the far wall of the room. "What? All you guys are doing is scaring yourselves to death! We will be okay," he said, raising his hands defensively. _

I felt my heart sink as I replayed his words and a sudden jab of anger shook through me. I jumped out of the bed and to my feet, "Okay!? Atticus, that's what you said! You ignorant motherfucker. The last thing that anything will ever be is okay! You fucking left me here to die by myself!" I shouted into the empty bedroom. The noise only bounced off of the empty walls and back to me. Heavy tears brimmed my eyes when only silence followed the bitter noise of my words. "I'm sorry," I said to no one again. Maybe, deep down inside, I was hoping that someone would hear. The tears started pouring down my dirty cheeks again as I collapsed to the creaky wooden floor, clutching my knees to my chest. This is worse than the dead creeping around outside. I have never felt so alone in my entire life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys I'm back! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to the guest who reviewed my last chapter, I appreciate it more than anything! I'd like to know if I'm doing an alright job, if I should continue this story, what I should add, what I should change or get rid of, etcetera. Anything and everything is welcomed! Sorry this is such a short chapter it is kind of an introduction along with the first one and because of that I will try and post a new one tomorrow too.**

**Much love!**

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I clutched my knife tightly, so tightly that a white shade of color was displayed along the ridges of my knuckles. Branches and dead leaves crunched constantly under my boots as I made my way through the forest. I drove back to the highway this morning where the stopped traffic is and got more gas before deciding to explore within the woods. I wasn't really sure what I was necessarily looking for, maybe some answers, maybe more survivors. It's like I had nothing left to lose, so it didn't matter anymore. My senses were on high alert today, luckily, because before I knew it, when I turned around I saw two zombies headed right for me, thirsting for guts.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath before lunging at one and thrusting my knife right into its forehead.

I twisted the weapon and pulled it out and the monster fell to the ground with a huge thud, collapsing on itself. I repeated my action with the other one, stabbing it and kicking it away swiftly. My brother had taught me that that was the way to do it, to kill them right through the brain. Without him and without him teaching me the things he had, I would, without a doubt, not be here right now. My mind began to drift again and memories of Atticus singed my brain once more.

"_Lauren, what the hell? What are you doing!? You are going to get yourself killed!" Atticus' voice pierced the air. _

_ I walked down the street unguarded. My brother's warning shouts whined closer behind me. A gruesome looking figure stood nearly fifteen feet in front of me. It barely dragged itself towards me looking to be struggling a bit. I could see pieces of flesh peeling off of its cheeks. Its eyes were circled with dark caves, and its jaw was gnashing. It moaned and grunted, outreaching its arms in my direction. Suddenly, it fell backwards, collapsing. Confused, I furrowed my eyebrows and stepped towards it. A knife had flown into the area right between its eyebrows. Blood poured from the wound and trickled down the sides of its grossly deteriorating face. I turned around and saw my brother, storming closer to me, his face was red with anger. He pulled his knife out of the head of the monster, and wiped the blood on his dirty work jeans. He grabbed my arm and started walking me back towards our house. _

_ "What was that!? Are you out of your fucking mind? I told you what it was like out there, why don't you ever listen to me?" he shouted as he slammed the front door close. _

_ "They will tear you to shreds, Lauren, is that what you want?" he grumbled. I couldn't get a word in since we got inside. _

_ "I'm sorry," I whimpered and pulled my arm back. I could feel him staring at me hard, but I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eye, so I averted my gaze to the floor._

_ I could hear him sigh and he shuffled his feet, "No…I'm sorry, I could've been nicer. You just scared me to death, please don't do that."_

_ I looked up at him and his facial features visibly softened. "You're all I have left okay," he lowered his voice. His words reminded me of our mom. The day she passed away was the absolute worst for the both of us. She hadn't caught the illness that had been gradually consuming our world, thank God, but she had run down with a very bad string of pneumonia. She progressively got worse and since every hospital had closed, there wasn't a chance of her getting better. _

_ "We have to stay together," he said, his voice much calmer and little now. _

A loud bang drew me away instantly from my nostalgic thoughts. There was another piercing crack after that one. I blinked quickly, trying to restore my position in reality. I gazed around, a group of zombies were circling closer to me. There were more bangs. "Holy fuck," was all I could manage to say before I was tackled by one. I screamed and cried, thrashing my limbs around wildly, trying to hold it back. It drooled with hunger, the spit dripping onto my skin. Its gnawing teeth were literally just centimeters from my nose. "This is it," I thought to myself repeatedly, playing those three words over and over in my head. I tried and tried to push the monster off of my body, but it was too heavy for my strength. No matter how much adrenaline was coursing throughout my veins, nothing would be able to stop me from receiving the end of this fate. I could feel warm tears slipping down the sides of my face as I began to lose hope. Instantly, however, the muscles in my arms gave out and the body fell on me. It wasn't trying to fight back, though. I was surprised to feel my own heart still beating rapidly and the uneven breaths escaping my lips. Blackness began to encase my blurry vision and the last thing I saw before I blacked out was a figure moving above the zombie and blood from the corpses' head oozing onto my skin.

I felt myself slowly slipping back into consciousness, noises and sounds beginning to swarm around me again. I opened my eyes to see a man not even a foot in front of me, his eyes wide and lips parted with shock. I screamed and kicked him off, pulling the knife from my pocket and lunging on top of him. I was about to treat him as I would a zombie, until he grasped my wrist just before the blade was about to puncture his flesh. "You crazy bitch," he grunted and slipped the knife out of my hand and pushed my body off of him. I shook with fear backed up by my unbearable amount of exhaustion and hunger. "I'm sorry," I whimpered, feeling tears sting my eyes again. A different man came near and place a hand on my shoulder blade, rubbing the tense muscles in tiny circles.

"It's okay," he shushed me, shooting glances up at the man I almost killed.  
"It's okay!? The psychotic bitch nearly turned me inta walker bait, and it's just _ohhh-kaay_?" he mocked the tall man, an angry tone piercing his groggy voice.

The man next to me knelt on the ground next to me, trying to be as comforting as possible. "What's your name, may I ask?"

I looked at him and at the other man. I examined them slowly, gazing at the crossbow the one standing was donning on his shoulder. I looked at my knife in his hand and then at his face. He glared only, and crossed his arms over his chest. I looked at the guy next to me, he wore a small, soft smile on his face for reassurance. I cocked an eyebrow at him, cautious of his intentions.

"You look oddly healthy for living in an apocalypse. Where are you all holed up at?" I asked them, avoiding his interrogation.

"He asked you a question, sweetheart," the man with the crossbow smirked sarcastically.

"And I'm expected to trust you?" I snapped back, "Give me my knife and my backpack back and I'll be on my way."

"I can't do that right now, sorry. Just please…what is your name? Where are you staying?" The man next to me continued to press.

I glared at the both of them.

"Look, my name is Rick. Rick Grimes. I'm here to help you if you can just answer some of my questions." The look consuming his features appeared honest and sincere, but even the most trustable looking people will stab you in the back in a heartbeat. I thought about it for moments until I realized that honestly, I have nothing left to lose anymore. I've known that that was the case for too long.

"Lauren. My name is Lauren. I don't reside anywhere and haven't since my oh-so-humble abode was overrun by walkers three and a half months ago. Happy? Is that the answer you want?"

Rick nodded and turned to the other man and shot him a questioning look and the man only shook his head. Rick turned back to me and the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly.

"So you don't have anyone with you?" He questioned.

I glared at him, "Yeah, because I would've just taken my sweet time joy walkin' out in the forest by myself and almost get killed if I had someone looking out for me. No I have no one, now are we done chitchatting or are you going to skip to the part where you kill me?"

He stifled his laughter, "No one is planning to do that."

"Well, what do you want from me?"

He skipped right to the chase, "For reference, how many people have you killed?"

I was taken aback by his forward question and furrowed my eyebrows, "None."

"How many walkers have you killed?"

"Walkers?" I chuckled.

"Yeah those bloodthirsty biters that almost killed you," he laughed slightly.

"Too many to count," I answered his question, "Is that it? Can you let me go now or..?"

"Okay look…We are residing at a farm just down the road a ways," he began explaining, "it's a large white farmhouse with a big old field, you can't miss it. I'm thinking you should come with us and get cleaned up and your wounds checked out. Please. A woman like you can't be living on her own like this." The features on his face twisted up and he looked pained. "We just lost a girl, about ten. She's off in these woods somewhere and we are aware of what the world is like out there and it is so scary for someone to have to deal with that." He calmly placed a hand on my knee and looked at me sternly, the way my brother used to. "Please."

I thought about it hard for several moments, while both men conversed with each other, both shooting glances in my direction often.

"She almost killed me!" The unknown man said loudly.

Rick fought back, "She passed out and woke up with you dangling in her face and you expect her to not panic?"

They argued some more while I pondered the idea of me moving down there. How many people are there? Are they as hostile as crossbow-man over here? Do they have food?

"Okay. I'll go." I said simply and Rick and I exchanged soft smiles while the other rugged looking man sat defeated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! I promised I would post a new chapter today, since yesterday's was so short, so voila! Here it is! Thank you to those of you ( .95, gkelly, Lamia86, and Skies192) who have favorited my story and followed so far, it really means a lot to me. And thank you to anyone else who has been reading too, you guys rock! Reviews and comments on anything is very much appreciated and welcomed. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

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"And lastly, this is my wife Lori with my son Carl," Rick smiled as he stepped further into the room with me following at his heels. He had been introducing me to everyone around camp today.

He motioned to a longhaired brunette woman with a soft looking face sitting by the bed where a young child was laying. The woman forced a smile but she only looked heavily distressed and exhausted. I gazed at the boy and he seemed to be peaceful and resting.

"Yeah," Rick started to say something, "when we were looking for Sophia, Carl was accidentally shot. It's…it's been really…rough." His voice sounded pained and tired.

"Oh my gosh," was all I managed to say as I held onto my face with one hand. I was truly shocked, I hoped he was okay, but I didn't want to ask and pry further into the touchy subject. They both nodded and continued to look deep in thought.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry this happened. No one deserves that," I said, trying to ease the mood a bit.

"Thank you," Rick said and went over to his wife and kissed the top of her head lovingly. I looked over and studied the young boy in the bed again. A sense of comfort and relief washed over me as I watched his chest rise and fall slowly. He is so lucky to be surrounded by so many people who love him.

After moments of silence, a young woman stepped into the room. She handed me a pile of clothes and shower supplies, with a smile gracing her features. She flicked her short brown hair out of her face and stuck out her hand for me to shake, "Maggie," she greeted me with her name. "Lauren. Nice to meet you," I said and returned a smile.

"These might be a little big because you're so dainty and small, but it's some of the best I can offer."

"Wow, thank you," I beamed, shocked for a moment. I took the clothes gratefully. I felt a sense of home and happiness for those couple minutes, and that was something I hadn't felt in several months.

"Not a problem! You don't look too hot, so I thought I'd offer and there is a warm shower upstairs with your name written all over it," she chuckled.

I thought about her words and I hadn't even realized how disgusting and deranged I probably look to every one of these people. She lost me at warm shower, however, I haven't had the blessing of one of those in ages. She led me to the small bathroom, and I stepped in and closed the door gently behind me. I felt entirely relieved, stripping from my dirty, mud-caked clothes. I turned on the water and crept into the heavenly looking tub. I literally gasped as I felt the steaming water above me pour onto my skin and down my torso and legs. I relished in the brilliance and sat there for several moments before finally beginning to scrub down. The water falling off of my skin was tainted dark as it cleansed my body of a couple months' worth of gook. I have never felt so elated in my entire life. Before this whole end-of-the-world bullshit started, I have easily taken these small things for granted. A shower everyday would have meant nothing to me several months ago, but right now it feels like the heavens above have opened up and blessed me with something so magical. I took my time bathing, because I wasn't sure of when I would be able to enjoy something like this again. After I was finished, I watched the warm steam swirl off of the surface of my freshly cleaned skin. This was the first time I have smiled in so long.

After drying off and dressing in clean clothes, I spent intricate time and combed my hair in front of the mirror. I watched the unfamiliar figure in the reflection in front of me. My features, now lacking the graceful softness they used to elucidate, are much harder and sharper now. My cheeks are thinner, the bones highlighting them are much more prominent. My jawline and collarbones stuck out more than usual, prompting the idea of malnutrition. My eyes have since grown much darker, now showing obvious emotional damage and exhaustion. I wasn't necessarily ever beautiful, but if I ever had a hint of it, it would be considered long gone by now. I noted the dark tan covering the entire surface of my skin gained by spending countless hours outside under the burning Georgia sun. I ran my hands through my long blonde hair, entirely grateful it is now dirt free. I stepped out of the bathroom, carrying my dirty clothes, soap, and comb. I brought them outside, and found Rick sitting on the porch by himself. He only turned to see who it was and offered a quiet smile. I hesitated before moving to sit on the chair next to him. I looked out to where he continued to look. His entire camp and his people were set out around a fire near their tents. He watched them only, his arm on his knee and his head in his hand. It was quiet for several moments before I decided to speak up.

"Hey. I'm sorry…I was really rude earlier and you…you were only trying to help. I'm-I'm really sorry," I said softly, avoiding looking at him. He turned his head to gaze at me and chuckled lightly.

"No worries at all. I realize how scared you woulda been if two strange men were pokin' around you."

"Thank you for saving me though, I owe you everything," I spoke truthfully, trying to convey my debt to him.

"It was all Daryl," he laughed smoothly, "he is a boss with a bow."

"I'll have to thank him, then," I continued the light humor, "I don't think we are on good terms right now, however." Rick only proceeded to chuckle.

After the conversation began to die out, I decided to bring something up again before I would turn in for the night. "Listen…I think- I think what you're doing for these people is amazing. You've definitely got a determined heart, Officer Happy." He turned to me again, cocking his head and smiling little, simply replying, "Thank you." I offered a soft grin in return before rising to my feet, clutching my belongings closer to my body. I stepped down off of the old wooden steps and swaggered over others in the group. Content and tired emotions graced their faces as they all exchanged hushed words with one another. They averted their gazes to me as I walked by them. I went and opened my tent which Dale had set up for me earlier and placed my things inside. I turned to the others as they continued to watch me.

"Mind if I join for a minute or two?" I asked. There was a series of nods. I glanced over at Daryl, who watched me even more intently than the others. I pushed it away and walked over and took my seat on the ground next to Glenn, whom seemed happy to greet me this afternoon.

"Woah. Lauren, I had to literally sneak a double take. You look so different! Pretty," he offered.

"Different? I magically turned pretty? What is this?!" I spoke sarcastically back, laughing at his attempt of a compliment.

"No! No no! That's not what I meant- I…I mean—" he gasped, trying to salvage his mistake.

The others around began to laugh and his face flushed a dark shade of crimson. I patted him on the knee and he looked down in embarrassment.

"So I take it you're a foot-in-mouth kinda guy huh?" I joked, but the others around seemed to nod and chuckle in agreement. "It's cool," I smiled genuinely at him, tipping up his hat. I sat forward again and leaned back on my hands. I looked up and took a deep breath. The sky was peppered with billions of shiny, gleaming specks. I felt so small in a world so vast and unexplainable, a world now entirely broken and torn apart at the seams. Oh the humanity. Moments passed with the soft voices and conversations continuing within the group around me. I didn't participate, but instead took the time to reflect on the past couple days. Is this even real? I was two seconds away from having my life taken away from me, but I was somehow found and rescued, right before I took my anticipated last shaky breath. I had every plan to die that day; I was so entirely close to ending it all myself. I had decided I refused to press on in a world so broken to the point of no repair. But maybe this group was the calling of my fate, maybe, just maybe, I'm supposed to live like this for just a little bit longer, in hopes of seeing or creating a change myself. That was the only hope I held onto.

Individuals of the group began silently turning in to their tents for the night, in hopes of catching some hours of sleep. I decided to do the same, but before I walked over to my cot, I turned. I glanced at Daryl sitting in his chair, poking the dying remnants of the fire. I hesitated before walking closer. I watched his eyes slowly drift upwards on my body and to my face. He didn't necessarily look angry, but he wasn't clearly impressed.  
"Look, Daryl, I'm really sorry about earlier," I began quietly, my voice trailing off at the end. He looked up at me and blinked only. I wasn't really expecting words, so his reaction was okay. "Yeah, but um…thanks though. I appreciate you saving my life and everything. You're cool." I mentally slapped myself for sounding like such an idiot, but the negative vibe radiating off of him was making me quite nervous. "Goodnight," I finished with a small smile, turning around and heading off into my tent. At least I got it off of my chest, I owed him that much. I didn't want to create enemies here, and maybe if I just keep my distance, I wouldn't have any issues.

The next morning was rough, it seemed that not one part of my body wanted to be awake. I flipped over on my back and slung myself lazily out of bed. I ran the comb through my hair and pulled it up into a high ponytail. The ends tickled my bare shoulder blades, sending a radiance of shivers throughout my body. I unzipped my tent and stepped out, taking in the bright early morning radiance and fresh air. I saw Carol and Lori hanging the campers' freshly cleaned clothes on a line to dry. They saw me and smiled. "Good morning," I sang, "beautiful Georgia dawn, isn't it?" The two nodded and chuckled. I saw Rick coming out of the house and I waved him over.

"I'm going out today. I'm going to get the rest of the supplies out of my truck on the highway," I told him.

His eyes widened, "By yourself? That isn't the best idea…" he trailed off.

"Okay Officer Happy, tell me about the months I spent out there. Who was with me? Oh right, no one," I said sarcastically, flicking wild strands of blonde hair out of my face.

"I'd feel better if you had someone with you," he said sternly, turning to join the ladies hanging clothes.

"I'm fine, Rick, honest," I continued to pester, knowing I am capable of being independent. He ignored me after that, letting me know that his argument had been settled and the debate was over. Being me, I refused to take no as an answer. "Can I at least have my knife back please?" I asked, defeated. He grunted but gave in, pulling my knife out of a sheath in his belt. I put it in my own, and nodded before turning on my foot and heading off down the hill to my tent. I pulled my backpack out and laced up my boots. This was going to be a hell of an adventure.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi guys! I'm back! I'm very grateful for the response I have been getting on this story; it's definitely a start! I would like to know if there is anything I can do/change/fix about my story, so reviews and criticism are extremely needed! I find it cool that people are actually reading this, haha. Let me know if I should continue this...but I hope you enjoy this (slightly fluffy...sorry) chapter! **

**Thank you to my story followers/favoriters so far!**  
**(4everMCRluver, Skies192, carey905, .95, gkelly, serina1944, speedy964, Lamia86, and sugabee14) **

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I tried to sneak out of camp while those awake seemed to be distracted and heavily involved in what they were doing, however, I was mistaken.  
"And miss, where are you going?" Dale's voice appeared out of nowhere, stunning me. I cringed and pivoted on my foot, facing in his direction. He was climbing up onto his camper for first watch this morning.

"Going," I replied vaguely and attempted to begin my journey once more.

Before I got to take a step, he spoke again. "Not by yourself I hope."

"Yes, by myself. Now if you would excuse me-"

"Lauren, I was told to keep tabs on what is going on at all times. I don't need you all to be playing games." He looked at me, intent on getting his point across.

"I am a grown woman. I can make my own decisions," I replied, maybe a bit too harshly.

He looked taken aback by my hostility and opened his mouth to say something but not one noise came out. "I'm sorry," I continued, "but I have to go. I'll be back before lunch." And before he could get any other response out, I turned and ran, clutching the straps of my backpack tightly to me. I made my way to the woods, looking back over my shoulder. No one was following me, but I spotted Dale's silhouette illuminated by the sun rising behind him, standing on the top of his camper, facing my direction. I hesitated before stepping into the brush, climbing over fallen tree stumps. I bore my knife only, keeping it ready to use at all times. I surprisingly faced no trouble stumbling through the woods, but found myself nearly tripping over certain things, I guess my body hasn't fully woken up yet. I regret not eating breakfast before I left. I hope the box of granola bars is still in the glove box of my truck because I am starving. I encountered one zombie on my way up to the highway, thank God it was just one, and it seemed to be distracted eating a squirrel, so I ignored it but sped up my travelling.

Hours seemed to trail by and the trip was gruesome and appeared much longer than it should have. I felt so dizzy once I finally made it back to the highway and to my vehicle. I don't know what is coming over me. I pulled the truck's key out of my back pocket and fumbled to get it into the key slot. My fingers were shaking for some reason, sending terrified nerves throughout my body and to my toes. I finally got the door unlocked and I climbed in, pulling out various supplies and throwing them into my backpack. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath, wiping my forehead of the nervous sweat accumulating. My break was cut short when something touched my back, sending my adrenaline level to the moon and back again. I kicked my leg backwards furiously, feeling my foot come in contact with a heavy body. I flung myself around to see two zombies, the one I kicked on the ground, and one coming closer to me. Faster and faster it came, stretching its arms in my direction. I felt tears sting my eyes as I struggled to locate my knife. I found that it had fell to the pavement. In one swift movement, I knelt down and picked it up before lunging forward and plunging it into the head of the walking one. As I struggled to retrieve my weapon from its rotten flesh and brain, my ankle was grabbed. I flailed my leg wildly, in hopes that it wouldn't get the opportunity to bite. I refused to scream, knowing no one was around and that it would only attract more attackers. Fate was with me as I finally got my knife free from the head of the deceased and quickly thrust it into the top of the skull of the other one. I continued to stab it repeatedly, feeling anger and frustration burst through me like fireworks. The monster seemed to release my leg almost instantly, the pressure its grasp put on my skin was lessened. I pulled my leg free and quickly lifted the pant leg to inspect for scratches.

My breathing was heavy and unsteady now, my head feeling like a spinning top. I felt so panicky and unsettled that I couldn't help but to cry. I told myself repeatedly, "No, no you're stronger than that Lauren." But deep down inside I felt so indifferent. I felt like I can't be okay, nothing is ever okay. Something always happens, something always forces fate to rear itself up again. I've become so dependent on fate and hope lately. Maybe I shouldn't think so unrealistically.

"Shit!" I yelped as I was grabbed again by the shoulders. My vision was blurred with tears but as I turned around, I could make out a gruesome-looking, torn up face. My knife in hand, I killed that one instantly, but only to see two more behind it as its limp body fell to the ground. I accepted this as reality now. However determined I should have been, I don't know if I felt it anymore. I cried as I struggled to throw them off. They only attacked more furiously, their jaws gnashing at the space between us and their hands trying to grasp onto any part of body they could. I stabbed one of them in the forehead, leaving the other one to pin me against the side of my truck. "No…" I managed to whimper as I used my entire strength to attempt to push it away by its shoulders. This try had failed. I couldn't manage my knife away for two seconds to kill it. This was over, I had to accept that. Everything around me was one big blur of commotion. Loud sounds became blended together and my head began to pound ferociously. I don't know how long I can manage to hold it off for much longer, given that I was already weak and on the brink of blacking out right there. Before I would've given up, the body seemed to collapse right in front of me and fell to my feet. "What…" I whined and scrambled to regain myself. I looked down at the body. I blinked away the tears and managed to note the fluorescent feathered arrow sticking out of the side of its head.

"What in the actual _hell _do you think you are doing?!" A familiar, husky voice shouted at me. I looked around and saw an angry looking Daryl coming right in my direction. I ran over to him shakily and didn't even hesitate to what I did next. I wrapped my arms around his body like a mad woman, embracing him like I have never hugged anyone before. Unable to think of what to do, he caught me with a large hand placed at the small of my back. I cried into his chest, feeling my hands tremble as they moved to grasp desperately onto the back of his sleeveless shirt. I felt his entire body tense up and become rigid at my touch and I inferred he began to feel awkward but at this point, I didn't know what else to do. He had saved my life again, and I owe him everything and more. For many moments he let me stay that close to him, under his protection, until I pulled away. He didn't look me in the eyes for seconds until I began to speak. His face had softened quite a bit since I first saw him stalking towards me.

"I'm…sorry," I managed to choke out between sobs, wiping the heavy tears from my cheeks. He pursed his lips together and watched my face, his eyes darting from feature to feature. He gave a slight nod before walking over to my belongings and supplies which I had dropped in spite of the moment. He picked my bag off the ground and scooped up any other tossed items before putting them in the pack and zipping it shut. He pulled the arrow out of the zombie's head and then motioned over to his motorcycle and had me follow him to it. He handed me my things back and sat on the bike and started it. He waited for a minute before looking at me, insinuating that he was offering me a ride back to camp. I hesitated before slinging my backpack over my shoulders and sitting on the seat behind him. "Hold on tight," he instructed and allowed me to get comfortable, to which I snaked my arms around his crossbow and then his torso, which had flinched again at my gentle touch. He made a U-turn and sped off without another word. We had soon found our way back to camp through a maze of back roads and country trails.

I could see a couple of the others watching for us nervously as we began to pull into the field. Daryl parks next to Dale's camper and as soon as he shut down the engine, an outpour of angry and worried words come shooting in my direction.  
"I told you!" Dale chimed in, pointing a finger at me, "I knew it was a bad idea, now look at you, you-" The old man was cut off by Daryl stepping in front of his face, pressing a finger to Dale's chest.

"You don't talk to her like that. She's alive isn't she?" He defended bitterly. Dale looked stunned and raised his arms in defense and would be damned if he would say a word after that. Daryl burned him one last dirty look before stalking off towards his tent. I refused to look at Dale and walked past him and a few of the others and made my way towards house. I saw Lori and Maggie in the kitchen, preparing lunch. I greeted them with a slight smile, still feeling fairly weak. "Oh dear, you're shaking like a leaf," Lori noticed, a worried expression washing over her features. I felt my legs grow weary and my head become numb. I shook it and held my hand on my forehead, frowning. "Yeah…yeah I-I don't know what's come over me today," I whimpered, feeling like I could breakdown any second. Maggie put her knife down and came over to me, placing her hands on either one of my arms. Her eyes scanned my features, head to toe, examining for anything obvious. She frowned and shook her head before taking me gently by the wrist and leading me down the hall to a guest bedroom.

"You can rest here for a little bit, until you're back and stable on your feet. You are looking as pale as ever," she explained, a concerned tone edging her voice, "I'll bring your lunch in in a couple minutes, it's almost done and you look starved." And with another genuine, soft smile, she left the room. There was a knock on the door, just a nearly a minute after. Before I knew it, Rick stepped in. He looked at me, and slowly walked across the room and sat in a chair next to the window.

"Why?" he asked simply, rubbing his growing facial stubble with his knuckles.

"I don't want to be interrogated, Officer Happy."

"I'm not here to interrogate. I just want to know why."

"Because. Because I'm capable."

He sighed and looked at me again. "Lauren…you almost died again today. Do you realize how worried we were?"

"I told Dale."

"Yeah and he told you not to go."

"Yeah and you didn't have to send anyone for me, I could have survived." I didn't like to feel weak like this, but it felt like I was being shut in a box by his words.

Rick was silent for moments before he cleared his throat, "You're right. Nobody _had_ to. Daryl told me he _wanted _to look for you," his voice began trailing off as he rubbed his face. "Wanna know something? He doesn't give up on people. That's the thing. Like with Sophia, he has went out every single day and searched for that girl for hours. He is still determined, just like he was this afternoon to go and rescue you." I thought about his words for several moments, replaying them in my head.

"Hard-headed, isn't he?" I smirked, earning a chuckle out of him.

"That he is. He's a good man." He nodded at me and rose to his feet. He didn't say another word and swaggered over to the door and stepped out quietly, leaving it slightly ajar. I waited for what seemed like ages for my lunch, but was entirely grateful when I heard a soft couple knocks on the door. "Come in," I said meekly watching the white door. My stomach flipped when I saw who it was. Not Maggie nor Lori, but a quiet, restless looking Daryl was bearing my lunch on a tray in front of him. He looked at me, worried, and walked over and knelt by the side of my bed, setting it on my lap. He watched my face to see if I looked okay, and after receiving confirmation, stood on his feet again.

"Lori uh…told me how you were acting when you saw her…and I wanted to see if you were okay, and it looks- it looks like you are so…that's it," he said quietly, mentally stumbling to find the right words to say. I took this as a genuine moment, felt the corners of my mouth push their ways up almost automatically. He turned on his foot and prepared to walk out before I had to say one more thing.

"Daryl," I said, "come here for a second." He hesitated slightly before obliging, walking back to the side of my bed. I reached out my trembling hand in his direction, waiting for a response. He looked confused and I raised my eyebrows at him until he realized my gesture. He put his large palm on mine, the rough callouses on his skin grazing the soft exterior of my own. I raised my other weak arm and grabbed the same hand on top. My hands looked so small and dainty compared to his strong, tan one. "Thank you so much," I said genuinely and softly, just audible enough for him to hear and understand. I brought his hand to my face and kissed the top of it. I held it just for a little bit longer before I let go. I swear I saw the corners of his lips turn up ever so slightly, but I truly noticed to softness in his gaze as he watched me. He gave a slight nod before turning around and walking towards the door. He looked back once before stepping out into the hall, closing it behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

** Hey guys! Well, here's another installment of my story. It's going to get better, I promise! Haha, I hope you all are enjoying it so far and enjoy this chapter! I'm working hard on it and I am keen on doing so therefore I request and enjoy feedback! It would be best if I could know if I should continue with this story or not, what I should change, etc. Whoever is reading my story so far, you rock! Lots of love to all of you! I hope you enjoy!**

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I walked aimlessly around the green pastures and fields of the farm, my head in the clouds and not a thought in mind. I felt better this morning, less uneasy after finally receiving enough sleep last night. I looked around and saw the rest of the group returning to their normal daily activities. Something was off however, and I couldn't seem to pinpoint it exactly for many moments until it hit me. There was no Daryl. Why was I looking for him anyway? I had no reason. I sauntered over to Carol, who was hanging clothes again. "Afternoon," I greeted. She looked up at me and I noticed her eyes were puffy and red. "You alright?" I asked, concerned.

She shrugged my question off and averted her gaze down at her work, "I don't know anymore." My stomach dropped at her words, and I didn't know what to say. I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her fragile body.

"They'll find her," was all I could say. We all had to be strong enough for her. She embraced me back and nodded. I pulled away and offered her a soft smile and she attempted to return a somber-looking one.

"Hey, have you seen Daryl?" I asked after the emotions calmed down a bit. I saw her frown and immediately felt bad again.

"No, I don't...I don't know where he went." Her voice was pained and little.

"That's fine," I replied, "and Carol…it will be okay, I promise you. I'll see you later." And with that I turned around again and witnessed Rick arguing with Shane. I watched for a minute until Shane shouted before stomping off. He burned me a dirty look as he stormed past me. I tried to refrain from going off at him, it was very hard not to. I looked back at Rick, who was rubbing his temple and pacing, kicking at the dirt under his boots. I sighed and hesitated before walking cautiously over to him, in the case that he would turn his outrage on me.

"Hiya," I said softly, cutting into his thoughts as he looked up at who was talking to him.

"Oh, hey Lauren," he replied, clearly distressed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Things good?"

He gave me a sarcastic smile and huffed, "I wish."

"Sorry."

"That's life. You can't do anything about everything all the time."

I nodded. He was right. His words gave me a sense of hope for a second, like reality grew a whole new side to it. Since the end of humanity began, I always felt so obligated to change the outcome of things. I have to truly learn to accept that this was life now, I have to learn that I am only strong enough to handle some things, not everything, and that is _okay._ Rick stalked off towards his tent without another word.

I found myself walking over to Dale, questions in full blast raging throughout the weaves of my mind. "Hey Dale, have you seen Daryl?" I interrogated, feeling totally lost myself.  
"He's probably out looking for Sophia. That's all anyone's doing now a days," he replied. The way he spoke indicated that he didn't really care, but he meant what he said. His words sent a wind of worry throughout my body. Dale was probably right, Daryl went off. But he went off by himself and- No. Daryl is okay, he can handle himself. I could only nod at the old man before I walked off towards the house.

No one was in it except Hershel and Lori. Hershel was checking out Carl's bandage and wound and Lori was smiling gratefully. I looked at the boy and his eyes glanced over to me. He was awake and looking so entirely healthy having his color return to him as well as animation to his features. "Oh my gosh," was all I could say and smiled, "Amazing."

"Is that who you were talking about?" he asked his mother, his eyes never leaving me.

"Indeed, that's Lauren. She'll be staying with us for a bit," Lori replied, moving a hand to his forehead and brushing the dark hair out of his face. I saw his features lighten up at her words, and he grinned, "Cool." I nodded at him silently, still smiling. It was quiet after that as Hershel continued to examine the boy.

"You're amazing too," I offered and placed a soft hand on the old man's shoulder, "I know everyone is grateful for you." He turned around and returned a gentle smile, "It's the least I can do." I was about to reply when I heard a sudden loud crack outside sending waves of anxiety throughout my body. I ran to the window and saw part of the group in a frenzy. I inhaled deeply and almost forgot to exhale when I saw two familiar figures running out towards the woods. My mind was literally racing with endless possibilities of what was happening as I burst out the front door and off the porch. I sprinted as fast as my short legs could carry me and I almost fainted when I finally began to see what was going on. Rick and Shane were yelling at a frantic Andrea coming off of Dale's old camper.

"No!" Rick shouted, fear and anger hinting at the tone of his voice. Shane and Rick were carrying a body, whose it was I was unsure. I stepped closer and gasped. Daryl's limp arms were slung around the shoulders of the two larger men. His face and body were soiled with a large, unsettling amount of blood and dirt. His body appeared completely lifeless and his head tipped and fell to the side. I wasn't sure if he was alive or not and tears began to brim my eyes as I felt myself break down. "Why…" I whimpered, my legs beginning to feel weak underneath my weight. They quickly and frantically brought Daryl up the hills and to the house. I was frozen in my spot the entire time, frightened and heavily unsettled by the nervous pressure weighing down my heart and lungs. I felt like I could catch my breath as I fell to my knees and cried. I felt a hand on my back and one grab my wrist, trying to aid me into standing up. "Why why why," I felt myself whine repeatedly. I didn't feel like I was truly alive for moments until I was lead to a large shady tree and set beneath it. I fell on my side and curled up in the fetal position and cried. It seemed that I was over-reacting, sure, but this was about the man who saved my life. Twice. He saved me and it was probably too late for me to save him. And that's what hurt me the most.

"Shhh," a familiar female voice quieted me in hopes of calming me down, "things are going to be okay." I refused to open my eyes but I knew who it was. Carol. It was Carol. "He'll be okay, you need to understand that." I only cried harder at her words, clutching my knees to my chest. The grass beneath me grew uncomfortable but I couldn't move. "No! No!" I screamed, feeling like reality was reliving itself. Memories of the past flew through my mind one after the other, filling me up with so much rage and bitter dejection. This wasn't solely about Daryl now. It was Atticus too. Images of my older brother flashed throughout my brain, as my eyelids were shut it felt like I could see it all as a dream. Carol knelt beside me and rubbed my back, still attempting to shush me. I'm losing my grip on reality. I've already lost myself. I continued to bawl, broken sobs racking my body. I'm so weak. I need to know if he is okay. He has to be. I tried so hard to listen to the voices around me. Words of "Sophia" and "Sophia's doll" stood out to me, and I gasped for air at the revelation in the midst of my sobs. Daryl was looking for Sophia. He found her doll. He almost killed himself to find her. I couldn't catch my breath as my mind skipped around wildly with thoughts. The hard exterior, strong, 'don't-tell-me-what-to-do' Daryl Dixon went to extreme lengths to seek out a little girl that the rest of the group was losing the hope and will to find. He had a true, caring heart, something I was afraid that he lacked. I sobbed harder and felt my body begin to shake again.

"He…he has- has to be...oh-kay," I struggled to choke out, my voice growing higher with the pain aching my heart.

"He will, he will," Carol's gentle voice spoke again.

"I need…to see hi-him," I hiccupped and tried to sit up. Carol placed a hand on my shoulder and with her other, wiped the tears from my cheeks.

"Just take a breath, Lauren. They're taking care of him right now."

"I can-I can't," I whimpered, my entire body feeling like it had no will to give anymore, "p-please…" I could see her figure through the blur of tears welling up constantly. Her face appeared slightly foggy, but I could see the obvious flash of concern and worry wearing on her aged features.

"I need you to stay calm for a minute, Lauren. You need to not pester them because they're going to do their best. You know he will be okay, he is Daryl after all," she explained carefully, her voice sounding more stern and controlling. She sounded a lot like my mom and I wasn't sure if I felt more comforted or frightened by it. The woman seemed determined to keep me where I was, but I was not having it. She kept pushing my frail, sobbing body back down as I tried to stand up multiple times. It was weird. I think these past couple months have officially pushed me to my breaking point. I have never been so emotional in my entire life.

"How is she doing?" a familiar male voice drifted into the scene I was making. I blinked the tears away quickly to see a frazzled looking Glenn, his eyes were wide in shock. I fell to the ground again, distressed sobs continuing to seize my body. I felt him kneel next to me, and him and Carol whispered incoherent things back and forth for a moment. His strong, warm arms guided my body up so I was back to sitting in the grass. He embraced me and I could only cry into his chest. He brought a gentle hand up to my head and stroked my hair comfortingly, shushes escaping his lips. Several minutes passed like this until the crying wore me out so much that I barely could do it anymore. Glenn only sat there like a caring friend, a friend that I only have known for three days, but it seemed like years. This group seems to be much more tied and bonded together than I originally believed. He noticed that I had quieted down, and pulled away, grabbing my hand and aiding me to rise to my feet with him. He wiped away the astray tears, still lonesome on my dirty cheeks. I had just noticed that Carol had been long gone, leaving Glenn to tend to my distress.

"You good now?" he asked gently, his eyes watching me from under the brim of his hat. I nodded however my mind only kept racing. He cocked his head towards the house, leading me to believe that I should follow him there. I did, and he held my hand the entire way. He guided me up the porch and held the door open for me. I forced a smile in his direction before stepping in. The house was mostly calm, quieted of the frantic episode that occurred not even forty five minutes ago. I peered around the corner and saw Rick and Lori speaking with one another, their son Carl sitting up on the bed. They saw me and Rick stood, his face showing obvious sympathy. He bowed his head and pointed down the hallway. I imagined this is where Daryl was. Glenn stepped out of my way and went and joined Maggie and Beth in the kitchen. I stepped past them and down the hall, the old wooden floor creaking under my weight with each movement. I knocked gently before opening the door. I saw him lying on the bed I had been recovering in just yesterday. His back was facing to me, and he turned his head to the side and peered out of the corner of his eye to see who it was. He immediately turned back forward, pulling the comforter over his bare torso and shifting uncomfortably. I looked to the corner of the room and saw Carol sitting in a chair, her aging features appearing somber but holding a tiny gleam of hope. She acknowledged me and stood to her feet.

"I'll give you time," she offered, walking over to me and placing a hand on my shoulder, before sauntering around where I stood and out of the room, closing the door slowly behind her. I turned my attention back to Daryl, whom hasn't made a sound since I walked in. I almost could've cried with happiness realizing he was conscious and moving.

"Hi," I greeted softly, still struggling to catch my breath after inhaling ghost sobs. He didn't react at all. I walked over and sat on the edge of the large bed, behind his resting body. It was quiet before he coughed and cleared his throat.

"Can't you all just stop bein' so annoyin' and leave me the hell alone? I ain't no fucking pussy," he grunted and shifted awkwardly again, his words slightly muffled at the end. I was taken aback by his question and felt a sharp pain jab my chest. Anger began charging up inside of me and I knew I had to react this time.

"What the hell is your problem?" I snapped at him, rising shakily to my feet. "You know, I'm _really_ sorry that people actually care about you."

"No one in their goddamn right mind needs to," he replied bitterly. I found myself strikingly offended at his words, but I wasn't sure why. I didn't know if I cared about Daryl or just his determination to keep this group alive. He was, after all, one of the stronger camp members, the one who truly possessed what it took to survive in a world so damaged. But over these past few days, I began to learn to see through Daryl's tough exterior. Inside, lied a broken man whose only will was to protect the ones he cared about, and I just _knew_ he cared about the others, no matter how much he would deny it.

"Pull your head outta your goddamn ass for once, Daryl," I told him finally, my voice sounding much more pleading and angry than I originally intended for it to be. He didn't reply and my heart began to feel kind of sympathetic, but it had to be lifted off my chest. Besides, if I didn't say it, who actually would? I refused to feel guilty, however, and stood my ground.

"Why don't you, sunshine?" he interrupted the silence with his morose words, "in fact, do that and stay the fuck away from me."

"You're an absolute dick," was all I replied with back before I stormed out.

I struggled to wipe away the falling tears from my eyes as I made my way out of the house, walking quickly to avoid confrontation. How can one person be so utterly rude, confusing, stubborn and annoying all at the same time? It almost felt like what he said wasn't real, and I just imagined the entire argument, but it was. It was very real and so was the true heartache that I felt.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey everyone I'm back with another installment to this story! I really enjoy writing this, I hope you guys enjoy reading it just as much. Thank you to those who are still following along! **(and a new follower, Carlisles gurl)** Reviews are very much appreciated! I only hope this story can get better and it helps to have some positive feedback and criticism. After that being said, I hope you like this chapter! I do! READ ON!**

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I didn't cry. I didn't _want_ to cry. I had no reason to. Daryl was nothing to me and that was that. He wasn't worth the tears. I refused to talk to anyone but Glenn, who approached me without interrogation, unlike multiple others within the group, after hours of me pouting in my tent.

"Knock, knock," I heard his familiar voice outside the zippered door.

"If you're here to bother me, leave," I called out bitterly.

"No I wanna say hi," he replied, a hurt tone following his words.

"Whatever," I sighed and rubbed my aching head.

He didn't hesitate to unzip the flap after I spoke that word and he climbed in, almost tripping over his feet before placing himself in the spot next to me.

"Hiya," he greeted, but he didn't really smile. He looked like he had a lot on his mind and wanted to talk about it. I sarcastically waved at him and sat up on my cot. "Lauren. You're a girl right?"

I raised an eyebrow at his question, "Well…I sure hope so. At least that's what the doctor told my parents many years ago."

"Ha. Very funny," he replied jokingly, raising his chin at me and adjusting his hat, "well I have a question…but! You have to promise not to laugh." I motioned for him to go on and he obliged. "Well you know Maggie right? I just…I don't understand her. Like one minute she says she'll…you know, _have sex_ with me," he hissed quietly as if someone would overhear him, "but then the next she's all mean to me." I tried to stifle my laugher, understanding that I promised him I wouldn't let a chuckle slip, but his problem seemed so _junior high. _ He noticed the amusement on my face and frowned, about to stand up and give up on the conversation.

"No, no," I chuckled and grabbed his hand and pulled him back to sit on the cot with me, "you have to understand the pressure she is under right now, Glenn," I began explaining, and he turned his attention back to my words, hanging on them for every millisecond of advice he could grasp. "We are in the zombie apocalypse for God sakes," I giggled and he only nodded. "Girls are difficult, I get it, you just need to offer her some space and consideration."

"Yeah," he replied, the tone of his voice much more realizing and soft. He turned his head and eyes up, as if he were returning to his thoughts, "thank you." I nodded and forced a gentle smile, watching his face turn to a different emotion. It was quiet for moments until he snapped back to reality. "Oh," he started to speak, "I've been meaning to ask you this too…are you okay? I mean, you ran out of the house pretty fast this morning." I didn't want to reply to his question and he cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling the tension in the tent build. "If you don't want to answer that's fine, but I'm…I mean _we,_ all are worried." I hesitated before sighing and shaking my head.

"You know…" I began, "I don't really know."

"Well, what…what did you and Daryl talk about?" he questioned, obviously curious, but not intending to pry further and tug on my emotions. His words did affect me, however, as I felt a sharp spin of anger twist through my body at the mention of the man's name. I felt my face churn up into something bitter looking, as I pondered how I would react to this question outwardly.

"You're a boy right?" I asked, turning his earlier question on him, and he looked down and chuckled, nodding. "Well then, what the _fuck_ is wrong with him?" I interrogated blatantly and he only continued to laugh softly to himself. I found myself giggling a little too, my mood seeming to lighten up a bit.

"Good question," he replied and shook his head, smirking.

"You see, he acts like this big tough guy all the time, but I know for a fact there is something much deeper to him, you know? He saved my life. _Twice_. But then he turns around and starts being a big ol' bitch to me and I don't get it."

"Yeah that's Daryl," he laughed light-heartedly, but understood my words carefully, "listen…can I be honest with you?" I nodded in reply and his smile gradually faded away, his features taking up a much more serious emotion. "I don't mean to be a middleman or anything, but I can tell Daryl has really changed since you came to camp." I didn't know how to take Glenn's words. Was that good or bad? I saw him realize my confusion and he spoke again, "in a good way. I don't know how to describe it, but if you think he's bitchy now, you should have seen him last week. It's like you have caused some type of effect on him." I didn't necessarily understand what Glenn was getting at. Damn, guys _are_ really confusing. He chuckled, watching the emotions on my face change from confusion to an even deeper confusion, and then to suspicion. "He'll get over it," he said lastly, rising to his feet.

"Promise?" I questioned genuinely. He laughed once more and outreached his hand in my direction and stuck out his pinky for me to link my own with. I obliged.

He nodded and replied quietly, "Promise."

He left my tent without another word. I didn't know how to go about feeling now. It just felt weird to hear someone else's opinion on the difficult situation. But, I knew I had to accept it gratefully, knowing Glenn kept an intellectual mind about the topic. I decided against my conscience and stepped out of my tent and began walking towards the house again. They were holding a good dinner tonight and I couldn't miss it. I noticed Rick walking in the direction of the old farmhouse too, and I ran to catch up with him. Rick was surprised to see me up and moving after hiding myself away all day. He shot me a questioning look as if to ask if things were going okay and I only could nod.

The dinner was slightly awkward. Everyone was grateful to fill their bellies once more, however, and they all exchanged acknowledging gazes and nods, throughout the midst of silence. Daryl was not participating, still resting in the room down the hall, and I was okay with that. I wanted to focus on myself and my needs. My needs were to feed myself and indulge in the family-like aura that these people radiate. I averted my glance to Glenn whom was smiling sheepishly at a mischievous-looking Maggie sitting diagonal to him. I tried to refrain from chuckling, but Glenn's childish ways seemed humorous to me. The others and I finished eating one after another, and I decided to stay after and help Beth and Lori with the dirty dishes.

"You know, you should talk to him," Lori spoke out of nowhere, but insinuated she was referring to Daryl and I. Beth stayed quiet and avoided butting in. I pretended that I didn't hear her, even though she literally stood only a couple feet away from me. It was immature of me but I didn't need other people cutting into my social decisions. "He's only moping and I'm getting tired of you moping because he's moping."

"I'm sorry. I'm not in a position to do that right now," I replied, scrubbing food off of one of the plates.

"I understand, I do. But this is getting old already and one of you needs to take initiative." I tried to process her words but I couldn't. It sounded like she was scolding me and I didn't appreciate being put in that position.

"I get where Lori is coming from," quiet Beth spoke to cut the tension, "I don't know much about you, or Daryl, but there are rumors floatin' around here and I understan' you've both got somethin' goin' on. I don't know if it's with each other or personal, but when I was sitting outside with Jimmy, the way I saw you run off of that porch was frightening." Her voice was gentle and little, but they really impacted the way I began to feel. I took her words in carefully, picking them apart cautiously and thinking of a way to reply back.

"Well…a rumor's a rumor," I said bitterly, "I am sure as hell there isn't anything going on between Daryl and I," I explained and set the clean dish down for her to dry, "if people would actually mind their own business, maybe there wouldn't be an issue." And with that, I stalked off towards the main gathering room and sat in the chair in the corner. It was like I had no business to be personal around here anymore. I wish all of these people would shut the hell up already and stop prying into my life. I have absolutely nothing emotionally or personally tied to the asshole of a man recovering in the other room. And if I did, it wouldn't be anyone's damn business but my own. My flowing thoughts were cut short when I heard footsteps padding on the old wooden floor.

"Someone doesn't look too happy," an old male voice said gingerly. I looked up to see a tired looking Hershel. He smiled tenderly at me, his eyes seeming to calm my mood down quite a bit. I shrugged at his accusation and he sat on the end of the bed. He pulled off his loafers and set them on the old-fashioned rug beneath his feet. "How are things going?" he questioned, looking back up at me.

"They're definitely going," I replied sarcastically and he picked up on it quite quickly, sending a concerned gaze in my direction.

"Maggie told me," he explained, cutting to the chase. Okay, I guess jack shit can't be kept private on this farm, Christ. "You know…you remind me a lot of her…" his sympathetic voice trailing off as he wandered into his own thoughts. "You both are so determined," he explained himself, "everything you do has to be done and done with diligence. And if I can understand where you're coming from, you are also fairly honest but you tend to let your feelings get the best of you, am I correct?" I thought about it for a moment before I felt an understanding of the wise old man. "Right, and you refuse to let things go," he explained. His opinion was accurate, but I couldn't seem grasp what he was trying to get me to realize. "Possessing those qualities can be a good thing but maybe not in this situation. I don't want to intervene with any of this, because you are capable of making your own decisions, but, this isn't the way to go with this kind of thing, in my opinion." I guess he had a point, yeah, but if Daryl can act childish and get his way, then why the hell can't I? I need to stick up for myself and I won't let him drag me down. "Daryl is a fighter, he is, and you _both_ are also very alike in that way," he continued, "I had chatted briefly with him, actually…" The old man rubbed the white stubble growing at his jaw with his knuckles. "He is having a hard time struggling with his feelings right now, and I thought you should know that." I knew Daryl hadn't necessarily said that to Hershel exactly, because if I know anything about him, it's that he never shares any of that with anyone. Hershel seemed good at understanding people, however, and I knew I had to trust his word. I was battling the urge to go into Daryl's room and apologize, because in all honesty, I was just a big of bitch as he had been. I refrained though, hearing Hershel out. If space is what Daryl requested, then that was what he was going to get.

"I suggest trying to fix things before they get too out of hand. But, that's all up to you, of course," he said and a low chuckle bellowed out of him.

"Thank you," I spoke quietly and genuinely. Hershel offered a smile in return before standing and turning out the small desk lamp. I took that as my cue to head off for the night, but before I did, I fought myself once again and turned down the hall towards Daryl's room. I crept quietly across the floor as I did not want to wake him. His door was slightly ajar, and I went and stood by the entrance. I heard soft snores escaping from the sleeping man and I felt myself smile. It was so good to hear him be at peace for once.

I turned in for the night, Hershel's words replaying over and over in my mind like a broken record. I don't remember getting much sleep, I kept waking up worrying about Daryl. What the hell was I doing? I don't know the man. I can't be feeling this much for him. He saved my life, though, that is what was constantly throwing me back. He obviously cared to come looking for me and cared enough to rescue me the first time we met. He shouldn't care about me. I don't need to be cared about anymore. I don't need to care either, because everything I care for, dies in the end. I thought about Atticus too. I thought about how much Daryl reminds me of him. Both of them are so stubborn, but so protective at the same time. I wondered if Atticus was looking down at me, I wondered if he could see me from the heavens above. I wish he was here, to witness how strong I've become. Honestly, he would've cried if he saw how many other survivors there are here, and he _never_ cries. I wish he was here to help me through the rest of this. My thoughts skipped back to the shattered memories of Atticus I constantly refused to keep but they kept still within the back of my mind.

_"Lauren?" The familiar voice called from around the house. I went out to the greenhouse in the backyard to collect some ripening produce. _

_ "Yes?" I asked, turning around to see Atticus. He came into the little shelter and started helping me pick an assortment of vegetables and fruit. _

_ "I just killed another couple. There seems to be a lot more today," he said kind of frantically, turning over a tomato in his palm. _

_ "Weird," I bit my lip in frustration, "it'll pass." I tried to remain hopeful, Atticus told me to. However, it was hard to ignore everything nowadays. Everything is getting worse. I heard a collection of moans, knowing that they were growing closer to us. I stepped out of the greenhouse carrying a basket full of fruits and Atticus was right on my heels, his hands full too. I freed a hand and pulled out my knife, ready to attack at any point given. I saw multiple zombies creeping our way, closing in on us. We began sprinting until I had lost my footing and tripped over myself. _

_ "Shit!" I yelped in pain as I fell to the ground, flinging red, yellow, and green crops all over the yard. A sharp stab of pain spread up through my foot to my ankle, sending bitter nerve reactions throughout the rest of my leg. _

_ "Lauren!" Atticus screamed, "get up! Get UP!" His voice was scared as he pulled on my wrist to help me stand. I depended my weight on him, and he hoisted me up, frightened and frantic. He slung my arm around his shoulder and began helping me hobble towards the direction of our house until one of those worst noises was sent swirling through the air like a tornado. He let out the worst bloodcurdling shout, making me scream and jump too. His grip had loosened on me and let go all together. At this point I was shaking and crying as I turned around to see a zombie had grabbed him and its teeth were sunken into the flesh of Atticus' arm. He was screaming and crying for me to run away but I couldn't. I threw my knife at the attacker and it shot him right in the forehead, sending him stumbling backwards. Atticus was collapsed on the ground holding his gushing, wounded arm. I ran to him and helped him up as best as I could being as small as I am and with my new injury, and rushed him the rest of the way to our house without another hit of a serious incident. We simultaneously sobbed as we struggled through the procedures of this; we never had to deal with a bite or encounter someone with one and this was so difficult for the both of us to handle. I tied an old t-shirt around his arm as he continued to scream in agony. _

_"I swear to God, Lauren, you're so stupid. Why didn't you just leave-gahhh! L-eave me out..there?" he asked bitterly through gritted teeth, "you know I-I'm going to die." He groaned in pain, his eyes full of tears. I sobbed harder at his words. Atticus was the only thing that meant anything to me anymore; he was the closest thing I had. _

_"Because you can't leave me," I whined, putting pressure on the make-shift bandage. The t-shirt wasn't seeming to cover it, the blood soaking the cotton fabric quickly. I grabbed a towel and tied it around too, my hands shaking wildly. He looked up at me, tears slipping down his tan, mud-caked cheeks. He reached a hand up and placed it under my chin. _

_ "You," he winced, "are st-strong enough..." I shook my head in disbelief of his words, crying harder and harder. His hand was gentle on my skin, his fingers were trembling. "You are." I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing was able to come out. The room was filled with noises of the biters outside trying to get in along with our constant sobs and whimpering. "Lauren," he said, wincing again, "you need to kill me, before I turn. List-listen, there's-ughhhh…there's a- g-gun in the cabinet, above the-"_

_ "No!" I cut him off, "I can't." I continued to shake my head, crying wildly now. He only nodded and grabbed my hand. _

_ "Lauren!" he ordered sternly, "you have to. Please. It's-it's all I ask. I can't…I can't be one of…them..." The look in his eyes was sincere and genuine, but also heavily pained and exhausted. "Once you do it…y-you need to get out of here. Far-far…far away."_

_ "No, no…no no no," I whimpered, gripping his hand tighter. _

_ "Lauren, l-look at me." The gaze on his face was pleading and sincerely begging me to do this. I wasn't ready. I couldn't kill the only thing I loved. When he was only ten, he was the one that helped my mom raise me from the age of three. We were attached at the hip for so many years, never doing anything without the other. At this moment, I knew he sensed my hesitation to kill him, but I knew that he knew it would be less painful this way. I knew that I didn't want to see him as one of the monsters, but killing him when he is still alive, breathing, and speaking my name seemed to be the worst decision. "I need you to know how m-much I love you," he grimaced at the pain in his arm, "and that I know for a fact that you…you are o-one of the strongest motherfuckers out there." He forced a smile through the pain he was feeling. I cried and cried and he only held onto my hand. "I need you to do this." I hesitated for a bit longer, but the zombies outside were growing even more restless, pounding on the glass and walls harder and harder. I nodded quickly through my tears, biting my lip before rising to my feet and walking over to the cabinet with the weapon concealed inside._


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys, I'm back with another chapter! I have to say, this one is interesting...things are changing..:) I hope you enjoy! PLEASE continue to review and give feedback or criticism, I REALLY, REALLY appreciate it! (and thanks to my newest follower kelizabeth13) READ ON! **

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I woke up screaming bloody murder the next morning. My head was pounding and I could recollect myself enough to sit up. I rubbed my eyes and forehead, trying to remember what had been spooking me in my nightmares. This has occurred mildly a couple times before, when I was out barely surviving by myself. The constant remembrance of Atticus and his passing is what has brought a lot of these episodes on. As much as I tried to forget, nothing could take away the pain and heartache of me shooting my own brother. I never had these kinds of night scares before the apocalypse, but it seemed that I just had to expect it now. I heard shouts coming closer towards my tent, and footsteps growing nearer, crunching in the grass. There was a couple pats on the side of my tent and from outside I heard Rick's voice spoke frantically.

"Lauren? Holy shit. Lauren, are you okay? What happened?" He sounded out of breath. The next thing I knew, he unzipped the door flaps and peeked his head in. He audibly sighed a breath of relief and stepped in cautiously. He gave me a weary look, kind of nervous almost, as he sauntered slowly to the side of my cot. He knelt down next to me. His arm reached out and he grabbed my trembling hands and held them. I looked down at him from where I sat, and he looked scared. The stare he held on my face was sincere but his eyes gazed a questioning look. I could not find a word to say to him and he removed a hand and placed it around my back, guiding me to stand up. He opened the door flaps and let me out before he stepped out after me. I slid my hand away from his guiding one and wrapped my arms around my body, embracing myself. I inhaled the morning air deeply and almost forgot to exhale when I snapped back to reality. Right in front of me, was a seemingly healthy looking Daryl. I guess the nightmare scared him too as he was instinctively bearing his crossbow, poised and ready to shoot. His exhausted features displayed obvious confusion and concern, as he watched me just kind of sit there, trembling. He slowly dropped his bow and slung it back over his shoulder, his intense, aquamarine-colored eyes never leaving mine. Rick stepped around my still frozen body and I saw him look at Daryl, then to me. "Are you okay?" he asked sternly again, expecting an answer.

I only watched Daryl, but felt a little voice inside my throat escape automatically replying, "Just…nightmares…sorry…" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rick wiping the sweat from his forehead and pacing in a circle for a moment.

"I understan', I do. It's just that ya scared us all to death." I realized he was on high end already and to have this happen to him would've easily thrown him over the edge. I was sorry, but this was out of my control and he had to understand that. Without another word, he walked away without hearing any kind of apologetic word from me. I was about to do the same and actually turned until I felt a hand grip my wrist, shocking me almost. I could tell it wasn't intended to be rough, but it was enough to catch my full attention. I spun around and saw Daryl, just barely edging a foot away from me. He let go of my arm and opened his mouth as if he were to say something before quickly clamming it up again. I scoffed at him and shook my head in disbelief, giving him a bitter, spiteful look before pivoting on my foot again. I didn't know what I expected him to do. I was still fucking furious at the man and I knew he was aware that I was. I didn't understand why he can't just leave me the hell alone. He didn't stop me this time until I was near where the rest of the group was sitting together.

"Wait," his anxious, husky voice called after me. I stopped in my tracks and hesitated for a long while. I let out a sarcastic, airy chuckle and shook my head again before my feet started moving again, away from him. "Lauren? Goddamit, wouldja listen for once?" Those words threw me over the edge and I turned around angrily and stomped towards him.

"For once?" I scoffed, "why don't you stop being a fucking dick _for once?" _My words came out as much more of a hiss than my own voice. I watched his strong features as spun into something angry and his eyebrows knitted together in frustration.

"What the hell is up your ass, sunshine?" he shot back and scowled. I laughed bitterly as he spoke and stepped closer to him.

"Oh I thought you knew?" I replied sarcastically, "you're the one that told me last night. Something about my head, you know." He didn't reply but his face flushed a dark shade of crimson as I could see the fury building up inside him.

"And you know, it's fine," I replied, lowering my voice as I stepped less than a foot away from him, "if you don't want anything to do with me, that's fucking a-okay."

"What?" he asked, almost dumbfounded, but kept the scowl plastered on his features.

"Oh? You don't remember? I'm apparently annoying as shit and need to get the fuck away from you." To my surprise as he registered my words, his anger seemed to almost compress itself instantly. He then looked…hurt…and it was weird as if my words spun up and punched him straight in the gut. "And, that's exactly what I'm going to do. Don't fucking bother me again, Dixon, and I won't bother you."

"I…I-" he began to sputter out audibly, searching for the right thing to say. I could tell there was no will in him to fight back. I threw a sarcastic nod in his direction before turning away and walking off once again, leaving him entirely disoriented. There is not a word to be searched for in the dictionary to explain what happened next. I felt myself being spun around quickly by a hand around my waist and before I could register anything that was going on, a pair of lips came crashing onto my own. I closed my eyes instinctively, maybe hoping it was some kind of dream. The moment lasted for seconds, the feeling of the unfamiliar kiss was electrifying but odd, like it wasn't due to either of us, but instead what we had emotionally between us. It was the anger, regret, sadness and…lust. He pulled his head away, but his body was still close to mine. I watched his face and the way his icy eyes studied me. His parted lips were almost too tempting, but his gaze was unreadable. His hands were gripping around my torso, pulling me to him. Mine were on his chest, which felt stiff and tense as when it was when I hugged him that one time. The entire thing felt weird. I didn't know if it was good or bad though. He kind of just held me for several moments, not saying anything or moving. However, nothing had to be said. I hesitated before leaning up and pecking his lips again gently, and he took it, without flinching. He actually kissed back.

"Holy shit," a familiar voice spoke from nearby. Daryl and I both shocked, we simultaneously pulled away, stepping a couple feet from each other. I turned and saw a red-faced Glenn, one whose eyes were wide and his jaw nearly on the ground. The way he appeared gave me an odd feeling, like he was extremely petrified and freaking out about something already and this probably threw him in a whole new direction. He looked like he was going to say something but he held it in and his feet automatically drove him away from the awkward scene to the rest of the group. I looked at Daryl, and he was watching Glenn now. Daryl didn't even look back at me before stalking off towards his tent. What the fuck just happened? He kisses me once and leaves me here like a fucking idiot. I hate Daryl. Maybe I don't _hate _him, but I despise the way he constantly treats everyone. Can't he just learn to be an adult for once and stop fucking with people's feelings? Whatever. This isn't worth my time; it didn't happen. I followed Glenn's trail and sauntered over to the group sitting around each other. They all were quiet as I stepped near, sending concerned and befuddled gazes at one another. Glenn was standing, looking to have addressed them with something. I hope it wasn't about Daryl and I.

"What?" Rick asked in disbelief like that was the only word he could manage to say.

"There's walkers in the barn," Glenn must have repeated himself and I felt my stomach drop. Shane stood up in a rage, and stormed off, Rick standing up after him. The two started arguing, both seemingly unaware of their hostile feelings. The others of the group put their breakfasts down and followed after the two towards the, now revealed, lively barn. I watched them investigate the old building up in the hills. I didn't know what to feel then. I walked past Daryl's tent and saw that he wasn't in there anymore. He must've snuck off when everyone was in a tizzy. It's like I didn't understand anything that was actually happening. I regret getting out of bed this morning. All of this drama could have been avoided. First this Daryl situation, now there's zombies? There is zombies…in the barn next to where we _sleep_?

Sitting outside my tent, I tried to avoid the others for the rest of the day, but found myself confiding in Glenn again when he came up to me. I shaded my eyes with my hand as I gazed up at him, the sunset blinding my vision. He sat on the ground next to me, frowning as he turned the hat in his hands upside down. It looked like remnants of a raw egg came dripping out. I had a hard time stifling my laughter as he continued to frown. I shot him a questioning look and he looked defensive.

"Maggie is mad at me…" he only said, until I realized what he was talking about.

"I said space, Glenn, give the woman some space," I said, chuckling a little bit.

"Yeah, I know."

It was quiet for moments after that until he nudged me with his elbow, getting my attention back on him. "So…you and Daryl….?"

"Oh Jesus, Glenn," I said, trying to shrug it off. I felt my cheeks get warm and my head a little lighter. "There are more important things to be worrying about here."

"It's fine, they're guarding the barn now, okay? And this is also important because what the hell, _you_ and _Daryl? _ You two were _kissing_. I saw it. With my own eyes."

"Yeah and did you not see him storm off two seconds later? He's so…bipolar sometimes, I swear to God."

"Am I missing something?"

"The real question is, am _I_ missing something?" I interrogated and put my head in my hands, "he kissed me first. He literally pulled me to him and kissed me. So then I kissed him. And then you came along and he ran away."

"Ah. He was probably embarrassed."

"Then why would he try and kiss me in the first place anyway? He's like…taking my heart and stepping on it constantly and he doesn't realize how much it hurts." He didn't reply after that and it was silent again. He cleared his throat to cut the tension.

"Wait…Lauren…do you _really _have feelings for Daryl?"

This was the question I didn't want to answer. I didn't want to answer because I didn't know. I didn't want to say yes because I didn't want Daryl to be scared of me or me to appear all mushy and soft. But I didn't want to say no because that's not true. I do feel something for him I just can't comprehend what it is. Besides, the man is a serious prick. The way he would play with my feelings at any chance he could get filled me with so much bitterness to the point where I could punch him.

"I think you do," Glenn teased, smiling a little bit.

"Oh god," I groaned, "It's…difficult…" I chuckled embarrassingly and shook my head at him. I tried to focus my attention on the others near the barn.

"Difficult to hide your loooooove?" he sang.

"Glenn."

"Lauren. Admit it. You like Daryl. And from my calculations, it looks like the feelings are preeetty mutual."

"He's a dick though. You're out of your mind."

"Dick, yes, he can be. But out of my mind, I'd have to say no. This is one of the sanest things I have ever stated."

I didn't know how to reply after that. It was immature to fight over something I didn't know anything about. I stumbled over many words in my mind, trying to find the right ones to say.

"Okay…say this…_if_ I were to have said feelings for him, it's not like I can talk to him anyway. He doesn't talk about things like this. He had a hard enough time saying sorry to me earlier."

"He'll figure it out. One day he'll pull his head outta his ass and if he goes with his heart, he'll fight for you."

"Thank you," I said gratefully. He smiled and nodded. We talked for ages after that until a rosy shade of dark orange consumed the entire sky above us, sharing pieces of our lives and our thoughts on miscellaneous things. After all that time, he rose to his feet, grabbing his dirtied hat again. With his free hand, he held it out to me and helped me stand up too. We parted ways and I began walking down to the barn where it looks like a lot of commotion was taking place. I picked up the pace and began sprinting when I saw Shane running to the big doors, hitting them repeatedly. "Shit," I muttered, my legs moving as fast as they could. The majority of the rest of the group was armed with weapons pointed at the barn. I stopped and backed up when I saw Daryl, whom flashed a bitter gaze in my direction. He steadied his stance as the barn doors flew open, letting a spew of rotting corpses creep out. Ammo flew in all directions right into the heads of the herd. Body after body, they collapsed. Moments passed in agony as the Greene family cried and shouted as their "family" members, "friends" and "neighbors" died again right in front of them. It continued for sever moments until, just as I thought it was all over, quiet groans escaped from the darkness behind the doors. A tiny, small body wandered out into the sunshine, cringing at the brightness of the sun. I was confused as I saw the group lower their weapons. Shock and confusion were the only things completely evident on their features. Until it hit me: this must be Sophia, the girl they've all been looking for. I, myself, was then shocked and appalled, knowing how much time and energy these people have spent on the search for her. They seemed to be searching her for any signs of the little girl they knew before. She looked so fragile. She growled at all of us, stumbling over dead bodies as she attempted to come closer.

"Sophia!" Carol's gentle voice called desperately after her daughter. She caught my attention and I saw her running in anguish towards the little girl. Daryl caught her from moving any closer and held her, bringing her to the ground. "Sophia," she repeated, whimpering, collapsing into Daryl's arms. The rest of the group looked distressed, their faces now somber. Shane stepped forward until Rick stepped in front of him, raising his gun. The little girl outreached her skinny, limp arms in his direction, crawling closer. With the crack of his weapon, her tiny corpse fell to the ground with a thud. Everyone was stunned and horrified. I didn't know what to say or do. I felt tears brim in my eyes and I couldn't bear it any longer. I turned and walked away, back to my tent and away from everyone else. I broke down and cried, my face buried in my pillow. I was crying because I knew how much it meant to everyone to find this girl, especially Daryl. Daryl took an arrow to the side, two falls off a cliff and a bullet to the head for this girl and she was dead in the barn all along. I felt so bad. I was also crying over the fact that this was a little girl. A girl I've never met, but someone, who from as much as these people tell me, was special. A girl of her age deserved to experience life and the outcomes of it. It truly wrecks me how this apocalypse has taken that so quickly away from everybody. Everyone around here truly cared about her and loved her I could tell it was clearly a very low blow to all of these other survivors.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey everyone! I hope you're all still reading and following along! This chapter gets even more interesting than the last, I must say, and it is definitely one of my favorites so far. I hope you all like it! Please review, I really need it...Thanks and enjoy!**

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The funeral for Sophia was difficult to attend to this morning. It was so hard watching the once strong, determined faces of everyone evolve into visible emotions so sad and somber. This was going to be near impossible to recover from, I knew it would be, but I knew they would all continue to fight for her sake. I kept thinking about a plethora of things, my mind unable to focus. I thought about Daryl mostly, but I didn't have any will in me to want to face my feelings today, so I kept pushing the bitter notions away. It's like nothing lately is beginning to make any sense at all. I watched Andrea and T-Dog pile the corpses into a truck, getting ready to dispose of them. I wanted to ask any God why we were having to do this, but I wasn't sure if I believed in such a spiritual entity these days. It just didn't make sense how we were having to put bullets in the heads of our loved ones, day after wretched day. We have to suddenly learn that the world isn't what it was, and we have to adapt to that, but we are unsure how. How are we supposed to protect ourselves from this never ending nightmare? How are we supposed to sleep knowing there are armies of bloodthirsty monsters lurking around our camps at all times? How are we supposed to keep a hope alive that a possible change or revelation is out there and coming? None of us really knew how to handle all of this, and maybe we are just pretending that we do until something good happens.

I've been trying to avoid everyone lately, just to eliminate further problems. But I couldn't help but notice Rick, Glenn, and Hershel have been gone for a while. I think Lori went to go look for Rick, but instead she returned with Shane moments ago. I can see the two of them arguing and Carl standing nearby. The last thing anyone needs is that. I audibly sighed, tired of all of the fighting going on recently. Shane has gone completely hot-headed, doing whatever he pleases whenever he pleases. He feels like this is what is right, but I'm having a hard time believing that this is what the group really needs. He is just stirring up issues and tugging on fraying ties that are just barely holding this group together and I can tell it is putting a lot of stress on anyone involved. I saw Lori walk off, the features on her face turning into something melancholy-looking. I watched her walk over to her tent and sit inside. I decided to say something to her, hoping to turn something around.

"Knock, knock," I greeted as I approached her tent. I saw her turn her face up towards the netted window and she forced a depressed smile. I took that as some sort of a welcoming, and I stepped in and sat by her. "Congratulations," I said only, knowing she'll understand.

"Thank you," she nodded. Her voice sounded off, as if she was trying so hard not to cry. I only just found out about her pregnancy, but I strongly commended her for being so brave and tenacious on willing to raise a child in a world so unfit.

"You're doing a really great thing. I know it's hard but if anyone can do it, I know it has to be you," I reassured her. I saw tears slip down her cheeks now and I began to feel bad. "Sorry," I said softly and stood to get out.

"No," she vocalized faintly, the sound of her struggle not to cry much more prominent and apparent, "I appreciate it, Lauren. I know we've not always been on the right page, but I hope things are well with you." I bit my lip and watched her, her gaze on me was knowing and sincere. She knew what I had also been dealing with. She knew about Daryl. She knows. Like a mother, she can easily tell what's wrong. I had to sit again, I, myself, knew I had to confide in her. I broke down, spilling my built up emotions everywhere; almost like a cup that got too full. She quickly moved her arms around my body comfortingly and held my head to her chest. I felt horrible about putting this extra pressure on her, but it got to the point where my feelings were so overwhelming that I couldn't take it anymore.

"I don't…know what to do..." I cried, "I hate this. I'm so weak."

"You are _not _weak," she said, shushing me, "that is the last thing you ever will be."

"I'm a joke-"

"Lauren, we all have our moments. I know it's been particularly hard for every one of us lately."

"Yeah but i-if it's not one thing…it's the next," I sniffled, "I don't know how much long-longer I can deal with it all…" She continued to try and calm me, holding me still.

"Unfortunately, that's just one thing you've gotta adapt to. We all are still learning to do it."

We spent several moments just sitting like that, with her coaxing me back into reality. It worked, however, she calmed me down enough for me to regain myself. Her words meant a lot to me in that conversation. She continued her gentle lecture and also spoke briefly about Daryl and what she thinks on it. She said something vaguely similar to what Hershel and Glenn did, along the lines of how immature we were both acting and that there is something much deeper between the two of us that no one can really begin to comprehend yet. I'm tired of people telling me that the two of us need to talk it out though. Because as much as I want to, there are factors spilling into the mix that are making me refrain. For example, how does one even begin talking about a non-existent relationship? Another factor would be that it is in fact involving Daryl Dixon, and a Dixon ain't pussy-shit to talk about his feelings like that. I thought about our kiss. I questioned the validity of it, if he was entirely sober before and during or if he was put up to it by someone else. I just…don't understand. I liked the kiss. Point blank. It made me feel something I hadn't felt in so long. I felt free in his arms, along with bursts passion and lust. I wanted him to kiss me again. I wanted him to pull me into his chest and kiss me twenty times better than that. I want him to hold me like I mean something to him and not let me go. After all of this, I questioned what I felt for Daryl too. He was such an asshole, but something about those arms- No. Not the arms. However muscular and tan they might be. But his character was something to be wondered about. He seems to have taken so entirely long to build up this "I-don't-give-a-fuck" attitude and reaction towards everything but that is just about the opposite of who he is. Everything he does for these people is through the ounces of kindness and carefulness strung within the depths of his shockingly warm heart. I have found myself falling for him. Maybe that's why I'm getting so hurt by it all. I thanked Lori graciously and apologized for my emotional outburst. She understood considerately, offering me a gentle hug before I decided it would be best for her if I gave her space.

Night was approaching quickly, and I decided to head off and find something to eat. I saw Carol and Daryl arguing earlier, but it would've been my best bet to not intervene. The two have not coping with this Sophia thing very well and, I'm assuming, decided to take it out on each other rather than beating their own selves up about it. I strolled over to Dale's RV and he offered me an open can of beans and a spoon. I nodded and took them gratefully as I had barely eaten all day. I sat by my tent and ate the beans slowly, savoring every last bite. I noticed Daryl shifting around his belongings by his tent. He moved it far away from the others earlier, I think to avoid them as much as possible. Darkness soon enclosed the entire camp and I tossed away my empty can and brought my spoon back into the RV before heading off to my tent again to go to sleep. I hesitated before opening the door flaps, and turned around to look at Daryl again. The cold, night air danced across the surface of my exposed skin and I shivered. I looked back through the screen window at my bag sitting in my tent. I remembered a bottle of whiskey my brother had left me and I had picked up but never opened. I didn't like whiskey much but I couldn't think to get rid of it because it was my brother's favorite. I returned my gaze back at Daryl. He just sat there, rubbing his head and gazing at the stars glittering the entire blackness of the sky above. I shrugged before unzipping my tent and climbing in. I opened my duffle bag and pulled the hefty bottle of alcohol out. I turned it over in my hands, sliding my fingers over the glass. I pursed my lips as I considered my options and if I should really go through with what I was thinking. Oh Jesus. It's not like I have anything else to lose, I guess. I tucked the bottle under my arm and reached over to my cot, pulling the small blanket off of it. I sighed before getting up on my feet and beginning to walk over to him. I wasn't really thinking about it, but my feet seemed to move robotically towards his camp. He didn't realize that I was there until I was about five feet away. I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it and held out the bottle instead. He looked at it and then to me, cocking an eyebrow with a stupid little smirk on his face.

"Fancy a glass?" I questioned, my voice coming out as an embarrassing little squeak. Christ. Thankfully, he only chuckled and shrugged.

"Big drink for a little lady," he laughed and took the bottle. He patted the spot on the ground next to him, motioning for me to sit. He popped it open and grinned. I tossed my blanket around my bare shoulders and sat down.

"Gorgeous," he said and held it out in front of him, the label gleaming in the moonlight. He took a swig and then another before handing it to me. I took it with a smile, and drunk as much as I could, wincing a little as I felt it burn down my throat. He noticed this and laughed again, "Not a fan, huh? Good, more for me." He took the bottle back and downed another couple swallows. We shared it all, not saying much, but having quite a few laughs here and there. I felt the alcohol begin to stir up in my body, particularly my mind. Embarrassingly, I could've always been considered a lightweight. I gazed at Daryl, and through an almost drunken haze he looked remarkably handsome in the dim light of his old lantern and the moon and stars above us. He caught me staring and turned his head the other direction, wiping the whiskey from his lips. I crept a little closer to him, and reached my hand out and placed it under his chin, turning his head back to me. I squinted to look at his features. He looked different to me. So much more soft and gentle. I gazed at his lips. They looked as tempting as they had yesterday. He didn't move a muscle, but watched me only, anticipating whatever was to happen next. I wasn't even fully aware of my own self as I craned my neck and head to sit just an inch or two away from his face. I went for it. I closed the space between us and pressed my lips to his, and a little grunt escaped his throat but the good thing is was that he didn't protest. It was like I had full control over this man right now and it felt so good. I climbed over to straddle his lap, keeping a gentle hand on his face, caressing the stubble-spotted cheek with my thumb. His own hands hesitated on where to go exactly until I felt the blanket slide off my shoulders and heard it fall to the ground next to us. One of his hands settled in my hair, gently cradling my head, and the other travel down my side and rest on my butt. I placed my hand on his chest, feeling it stiffen at my touch just like it had so many times before.

"Relax," I pulled slightly away and whispered. I continued and kissed him roughly again and trailed one hand down the dirty cotton of his sleeveless shirt, the fingers of the other one tangling in the dark hair at the nape of his neck. I played with the hem at the bottom before moving my hand under it. The bandage was still wrapped around his torso, keeping the arrow wound in his side healthy. I skipped past that and rested my fingers on his bare chest. The way he kissed me appeared a little rougher as I did this and his tongue grazed my lower lip before he bit at it gently, earning an automatic grunt from me. He smirked into the kiss, moving his hand off my ass and up onto my lower back instead. Apparently he thinks he's hot shit. I didn't care, however, I have never felt so good in so long. Our kisses were electrifying, filling me with so much giddiness I don't know how I was able to contain it. His hand slid smoothly up the back of my shirt and his fingers only wrapped around the clasp of my bra. Goddamn. The feel of the rough callouses on his fingers sent shivers throughout my body and my skin immediately reacted, rising in little goose bumps. I pulled my head away and pressed my lips to his jawline and then at his neck teasingly and I heard a fragment of a moan escape his throat. I smiled at myself before continuing on. I had advantage over him now and I couldn't explain it how good it felt.

This man did things to me. The alcohol spun through my system and I started to feel odd, but I didn't want this to end. I peppered several kisses at his collarbone and he let out a low growl before he moved me to sit up. He tugged at the bottom hem of my shirt eagerly and I let him pull it off. The crisp night air continued to chill on my skin, but it didn't matter. He bit down on his lower lip and gazed at me in wonder, his eyes trailing my body up and down.

"Beautiful," he said quietly, cocking his head to the side. My heart ached as I felt that this was just the alcohol talking. Daryl would never compliment me like that. I leaned down and kissed him again as a thankful gesture. It was much gentler this time and I felt his hand climb up my back and pull the hair tie out of my messy bun, letting the long, blonde locks fall down onto my bare skin. He moved his hands up to the sides of my face, holding it. He caressed my cheek with his thumb as he continued to kiss me. I gradually began to feel weary, the events of the day finally catching up with the alcohol in my system. I know he noticed this as my kisses began to get lazier and softer. He pulled away and looked at me, the gaze in his drunken, glazed eyes was only slightly lustful now, but much more caring and loving. I have never seen him like this since I've been here, not even for a second. He moved a hand under my knees and carefully kept one on my back. He stood, slightly stumbling as he tried to recollect himself. He carried me over to his open tent and placed my body on the cot inside. I only guessed it was because he was too tired and lazy to carry me back to my own. He left for moments. From the inside of the tarp abode, I saw the light of his lantern turn out. He didn't return until minutes later.

I heard his footsteps grow nearer and some shuffling around. I couldn't see him in the dark, but I felt him slowly get in the makeshift bed next to my body. He shifted himself around so that we could both be comfortable enough, and he pulled the old quilt over the two of us. I laid my head on his chest and I could tell that his heart was beating hard. Oddly, I was still very cold and still shivered relentlessly. He must've noticed this and pulled my body just a fraction closer to his own, warm one. None of us spoke for several moments. Something just didn't feel right. As close as we were to each other, there was kind of an emptiness between us, and I noticed it quite quickly. I wasn't going to allow myself to become depressed by it, however, due to how much happiness I had just felt moments before. But the tense feeling kept slapping me in the face almost, and I felt like something was obviously missing. Something had to be said, or done, but I just couldn't seem to put my finger on it. Maybe I'll figure it out one day. It was hard to fall asleep but I soon drifted off to the lull of his heartbeat, but only after silently hoping that I would remember this night.


End file.
